


Vent Child

by MystxMomo



Category: Dangan Ronpa - All Media Types, New Dangan Ronpa V3: Everyone's New Semester of Killing, Super Dangan Ronpa 2
Genre: Drabble Collection, Gen, This is just going until I get bored, [Homestuck voice] this is stupid
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-02-24
Updated: 2020-03-24
Packaged: 2021-02-27 20:33:30
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 2,417
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22871791
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MystxMomo/pseuds/MystxMomo
Summary: There’s a rat in the vents that only Kamukura and his Servant know about.
Relationships: Kamukura Izuru & Oma Kokichi, Komaeda Nagito & Oma Kokichi
Comments: 42
Kudos: 261





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> You know the bait and switch they pulled in V3 with Ouma being a remnant of despair.
> 
> It's that but it's also not that.

There are not a lot of things that surprise Kamukura. **  
**

He can count on a single hand the amount of times he's been caught off guard (Once at Hopes Peak, the second time the fault of Komaeda.) He is generally well prepared for most things life throws at him, to the point that events line together in a monotonous and predictable timeline.

So, the fact that the first words out of his mouth upon stepping back into Despairs kitchen for the first time in months is, "... When did we get a child?" miffs even himself for a moment.

"What?" The Yakuza looks up at him with a squint, lowering whatever papers he'd been shuffling through, "What the fuck are you talking about? Did you catch brain-rot from Servant or something?"

Ah. So he has no idea what he's talking about then.

"..." Kamukura let's the comment go, gaze flickering back to the child. He estimates he’s about thirteen, dirty cheeks, dirtier outfit, and messy black hair. His grin is large, something Kamukura immediately reads as an impulse to hide his nerves, and he's holding the bag of potato chips in his hands like he's just obtained edible gold.

There are two things he can do in this moment. He could, theoretically, tell The Yakuza of their obvious intruder. He's sure the man would have more to say and do on the matter then Kamukura does, personally. 

Or. Far more interestingly, the child would only need about thirty-six seconds to scatter back into the vent he seems to have come from. 

"I see," Is what Kamukura says, casually allowing his gaze slide back to The Yakuza. He normally does not go out of his way to _engage_ , let alone _provoke_. For this, he will make an exception, "My mistake. I must have caught your reflection in the mirror on my way in."

He hears the paper crumple up in The Yakuza’s hand from across the room, "... Kamukura, did you just come in here to _fuck_ with me?!"

Kamukura's eye's flicker once again, from The Yakuza, to The Child. The Child has caught on faster than The Yakuza has, bouncing off his heels in an attempt to silently scrambling back over to the open vent with chips in hand.

"Yes," Is what Kamukura says, blankly. The Yakuza makes a sound similar to that of a kettle well past boil. 

“Get the fuck out of my kitchen,” Oh, he must have caught him on a good day. He doesn’t even attempt to come at him with a knife. Kamukura offers the child one more wayward glance, but by now he’s managed to carefully place the ends of the vent back into its proper position. Kamukura sighs, and the exhaustion in it is not a bluff.

“Ah. Very well. I will take my leave.”

**Xx**

“If the other remnants catch you, I will not stop them from killing you,” Kamukura tells the nearest vent, a minute after he steps out of the room.

....

A small hand pops in front of the vent shaft and gives him a thumbs up. 

And thus, their terms are set.


	2. Chapter 2

Kamukura’s recompense for the child startling him as he did was his life.

Normally, Kamukura would stop there. He had no other reason to hold interest in this child. In fact, the small bangs and echo’s that it seemed only he could catch throughout the building was something he did not have to actively pay attention to catch. 

It was beginning to annoy him, quite honestly.

But, annoyance was better than nothing. So, he rewards him again.

“There is a child in the vents,” Kamukura tells Komaeda, “Feed him.”

Were this anyone else, perhaps, they might question each word of that sentence. However, as predicted, Komaeda simply looks on, curious and amused. 

“Ah! Of course. Very well,” He says, lightly, “Anything else?”

“No.”

And. Well. That was that.

There was, perhaps, a misunderstanding along the way. Kamukura maybe should have taken a step or two to clarify. Normally, it is not something he bothers with as Komaeda has is mostly obedient when it comes to direct orders.

Then again, he had been the one to leave a loophole.

He walks in on Komaeda smiling at the vent, “Hello vent friend! I come with food that is one-hundred percent not poisoned for you!” 

There’s a small pause. Though he cannot see him Kamukura can imagine the child, in perfect detail, squinting out at them, “Wow. That absolutely sounds like something someone that poisoned a dish of food would say,” He says, voice a little too dry to be coming out of a thirteen year old’s mouth.

Komaeda does not seem bothered by the immediate and undeniable thwart of his plan, “Aw, drat! Got me again,” He laughs in the sort of light hearted way he tends to do, smile not faltering for a moment, “I have to hand it to you, you’re getting very good at this!”

The vent pops open.

“Seriously, what is it with you and poison,” The child pokes his head out of the window of the vent, propping his chin onto his hand near playfully. As though nearly being poisoned for the fifth time is just a game he’s decided to humor Komaeda in, and he’s now gotten bored of it, “If your foods not poisoned, it tastes like poison. If it doesn’t taste like poison, it’s probably poisoned. It’s like, you have to pick one!”

(Despite the laugh against his tone, he eyes the food with a compact wariness that he thinks is supposed to be hidden. Kamukura catches it immediately.)

“Well, I’m not the one that poisoned the food,” Komaeda thinks on it for a moment, rubbing his cheek, “I’m simply borrowing-”

“Stealing,” Kamukura interjects, startling the child enough to hit his head on the vent, causing a loud bang to echo through the building. The blame would be placed on Souda, unquestioned and undenied.

Komaeda, on the other hand, just tilts his head to offer him a blink. He doesn’t have to look to know this; The chain of his collar clinks together when it moves.

“Where the HELL did you come from?!” He rubs at the back of his head, though the tears in his eyes seem factitious at best, “That really hurt!” He continues on with a whine, a sound that would be more pitiful if Kamukura couldn’t tell how much of a lie the statement was. 

He was fine.

The part of his psyche delegated to Ultimate Childcare Expert tells him to scold the child for his language. The reasonable part of his brain tells him otherwise, so instead he’s just left staring down at him. 

Kamukura finally turns to look at Komaeda instead, “Stop attempting to poison the Vent Child. He caught on the first time,” Quite honestly, it had begun to bore him a while ago. But it’d amused Komaeda for a time, so he’d allowed it to happen.

“Vent child?” The Vent Child Mouths, as though scrutinized, “Hey I- I have a name!”

“...” Kamukura can not even begin to care about what this child’s name is. Komaeda grins something sharp.

“Oh! He doesn’t care,” He says for him, because he knows Kamukura will not. The child studies the two of them with eyes that are far more analytical and interested then he’d possibly be comfortable with Kamukura knowing. 

“... God you guys are weird,” The child grimaces, and sulks back into his hole.

Kamukura decidedly ignores him, “Feed him food that is not poisoned,” He corrects his earlier order, because this specific shenanigan of Komaeda’s is quickly becoming an annoyance. Komaeda considers it for a moment, head tilting up as he does.

“So no murder?”

“No murder.” Kamukura turns to leave.

“I mean you can try to murder me, but I’m unkillable!” The child calls out, bemused, “Immortal!” A pause, “And. Hungry…”


	3. This chapter is literally based on a vine I pointed at and was like. Yes. Thats what this story is.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm still taking this very seriously, obviously

Ouma Kokichi likes to think he's made a pretty good life for himself here. 

You know. Just. All things considered. 

Sure, he spent about a good 75% of his time in some cramped ventilation shaft, and sometimes screams of terror echoed around when he was trying to get some fucking sleep. But it was better than where he was about three weeks ago, which was _dying on the streets_. In fact, he considered this lucky. He had food, shelter, and easy entertainment. All it took was playing smart and careful and not getting caught.

So, all and all. Doing great. 

Well, that wasn’t entirely true. There were two exceptions to that rull.

First there was weird guy, and Servant. Or uh, Kamukura and Komaeda. It had taken him a little bit to get their names, and he’d neatly labelled them as such in his head. First of all, Kamukura was terrifying. He didn’t know how the guy did it, but sometimes he just.. Appeared. 

For all intent and purposes? They were on his side?? Servant had spent their first few interactions attempting to kill him, and Kamukura HAD lied about telling anyone. That sucked. But other then that he supposed they were like. Okay.

There was Kuzuryu. From what he could gather about him, he was the leader of some Yakuza group. He was the easiest to get around, considering he seemed to be in some perpetual state of exhaustion and never checked to see what was making the weird sound behind him. Sucks to be him, really Ouma's sympathies to the guy. It seemed like he had a lot on his plate. 

There was the swordswoman- What's her face. Peko-something or another. Yeah, her. Pekoyama. He had to keep an eye on her. She'd almost caught him sulking around once or twice. Her presence made him, more than a little nervous. He was sure if he got caught by her, she’d gut him without hesitation. Just kind of the vibe he got off of her. Sorta serialkiller-ish?

Yeah. Definitely uncomfortable with that one. 

Then there was the nurse. Tsumiki. Yeah. He liked to avoid her part of the place if at all possible. It always reeked of blood, which was probably one of the worst smells he could name to date. Not to mention the whole, screaming thing that came from that direction of the building. The apocolypse had done some really weird things to people, huh. He tried not to think too hard about it.

Sometimes they get guests! That was always fun. He never knew what to expect from them. For example, some loud mechanic guy kinda hung around frequently. Had immediately learned his name was Souda because.. Haha. Soda. That one was easy. He seemed harmless, not in the ‘wouldn’t try to attack him sort of way’ but rather in the, Ouma could take him. Ouma could absolutely out run him. 

Probably. 

He wasn’t going to put money on it. 

And then today, there was...

"Servant-chan!” 

Ouma rolls over in the vent to get a better look out the small opening, 

“Where did you put Ibuki’s things?!” 

“Ah?” Komaeda tilts his head, smile on his face, “Mioda-san, I apologize but you’re going to have to explain a little more?”

The guy's poker face was exceptional, if nothing else. He was the first, and probably the only, to question where Ouma’s new and thankfully clean skull hoodie had come from. At the time, he’d only given a laugh, and the largest grin he could manage, and had sunken quietly back into the little hole he called home. 

It fit him like a blanket, hanging off his arms and resting at his thighs when he stood. It was perfect. He was considering going back for another, if he felt like he could push his luck.

Mioda (He notes the name in the back of his mind, decidedly places her in the category with Kuzuryu) huffs, and gives a sharp and overdramatic slam of her foot, “They’re gone! All the wonderful clothing she- _I’ve_ taken so much time to craft!! 

“ _Ah_ ,” Komaeda looks behind her, directly at the grate the guy KNOWS he’s hiding behind, and decidedly plays dumb, “Apologies. I must have misplaced it. You should have known better then to trust someone as truly incompitent and forgetful as myself with your things.”

Mioda groans, loud, “Please don’t,” It almost sounds like a beg, “I get it, I get it. How.. how _despairing_ ,” He’s almost positive those tears are fake. He’d know better then anyone, really.

Komaeda’s hands raise, carefully, and the smile that strains on his lips is anything but gentle, “Ah! I’ll go ahead and search around for it!”

“Be quiet. Don’t ruin this for me,” She rubs at her head, “Ibuki doesn’t want you touching her things again. I’m sure I can find it? Yeah,” To say she’d calmed down would be wrong. It’s more like a blanket has covered the room, forcing her to draw back in half hearted acceptance and disappointment. If Ouma didn’t know any better, he’d say the woman was soaking it in. Enjoying it? Like the personal offense of loosing her clothing was something to lurk in.

She turns heels, “Maybe you left it in the foyer…” She says, like it wasn’t the direction she came from.

It’s quiet. Uncomfortably so. 

Komaeda breaks it for him.

"Ouma?" Komaeda doesn't look up at him when he speaks, eyes trained on the doorway Mioda left from. These are the moments that really get him. His gaze breaks from the glossed over passive look to something attentive and sharp. Like he's waiting for something to come, or has broken free from some invisible grasps that keep him caged in heedless.

Hm…

"Yeah, buddy?" 

And then it’s gone. His smile falls back onto his face, "Don't argue with ugly people. They have nothing to lose."

"You know? Yeah. I'll keep that in mind," He pauses, just long enough to break open the can of soda as carefully as he can manage. It wasn’t like he was considering getting into any fighters, really. He didn’t have a death wish, "Does that include you?"

Despite the fact that he can hear his laugher, Ouma knows he can, Komaeda does not hesitate on his, "Yes."

Jesus _fucking_ Christ, "Uh. Noted, I guess," He swings back the soda, takes a pensive moment to consider the taste, and then decides. Ew. Absolutely not today. Not worth it, “Hey, can you get them to find something better than creme soda next time? It goes flat too fast. Nasty.”

“I’ll see what I can do.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> \- Yeah, the hoodies from his beta design. It's very Ibuki-esc, and I like the idea that the beta design is just, younger Ouma if you dyed his hair to black.
> 
> -The Vine in question


End file.
